Saturday, February 7, 2009

Pace

Time is a monster that cannot be reasoned with. It responds like a snail to our impatience, then it races like a gazelle when you can't catch a breath.

Ah, so true, the mysticism of time's movement. Its fixed, twenty fours a day but sometimes it feels like 12, sometimes like 30. Since I returned back to work, its only apartment to office to apartment. I think I've been missing lots of in-betweens. Days are stretched to eternity, draining out all of my energy. My only consolation is my bed who willingly embrace and comfort me every night.

I guess that's Japanese approach to life, a fast-paced one compared to Philippines, where everything seems in slow motion. I am used to the latter's but I think I was able to adjust to Japanese way of living. After all, life is full of adventures. No. Life is an adventure itself.

Last night, I went out of the office a bit early, and had the chance to go around my apartment, uncleaned for almost a month. I thought, I finally had time for myself. After dinner, I watched the film, The Boy in the Striped Pyjamas. Movies about friendship really interests me. The movie was appropriately paced and it didn't have lots of special effects - just raw emotions from the actors. For an hour and a half, I was left open-mouthed. Never did I predicted that the movie would end that way, its one of the most heartbreaking endings I have ever seen. I guess I won't be forgetting it any time soon. You just can't beat time.

Time and its movement are spontaneous too. They seem to have minds of their own. Too difficult to wrestle against them. If you survive, your lucky enough, but if not... just like what happened to my friend.

Paper Planesfor Vincent 1977-2003

Carelessly, you climbedthe rusty roofs, held tightlyto the weary limbs of a guava tree.

Like a five-year-old, you wouldn't stayput - folded the newspapersinto lop-sided gliders.

You challenged the airplanes,let go of artificial ZZOOOMMMMs!and tried to touch the sky.

One day, you took controlof a real plane, held tightlyto the yoke, observed the altimeter.

It wasn't like flying papers,you were nearer to the skiesa dream realized at twenty-five.

Were you playing when you zoomthrough the bluesand the emotionless clouds?

You found it a hard landing.

/totomai

Time can be a friend. But sometimes, it can be against you. Sometimes.

Time is a monster that cannot be reasoned with. It responds like a snail to our impatience, then it races like a gazelle when you can't catch a breath.

Thank you for this meditation on time/life/movement. It's true that too often maybe all we can do is go willingly with the movement, no matter it's direction or what it may hold, or how tough the landing.

Hi,I'm so sad and sorry for you to hear about your friend. Your poem is a lovely remembrance of him and I liked how you tied that it with the film, as well as paper planes so many of us fashion as children. It's clear how very much you miss him.